The warm autumn day began with much anticipation as a group of us walked through the large gate and entered into the space affectionately known as Dina’s Garden. The sky was gloomy and shedding grey across the earth, hinting at rain, so as soon as we arrived, Dina told us to place our belongings into protective bags. I was hesitant and anxious as I wanted to take photos with my phone but obligingly ignored my inner protests and placed not just my wallet, notebook, and pen into a bag but also my cellphone. I then moved on so someone else could do the same, each with their own inner protests but also cooperatively placing all belongings into the bags.

We then exited Dina’s Garden through a backdoor, stepped over a shin-height, haphazardly built stone wall, and began walking toward the trees. The one rule Dina established was to pay close attention to her without speaking, so we kept our eyes on her brisk movement, while following her deeper and deeper into the forest. We moved our feet quickly on top of the crisp, fallen leaves, stepping over decaying trunks, and ducking under low hanging branches. At one point, Dina stopped and waited silently for everyone to catch up. She told us, in a whisper, to find a partner. One of us would be the leader, and one the follower. The follower would simply close their eyes and allow the leader to guide, and the leader would keep their eyes on Dina for further instructions. Dina then reminded us of her one rule: to pay close attention without speaking.

My partner gestured that she was willing to be the follower and closed her eyes. I not only held her hand tightly but I hooked my arm around hers so she can feel safe. I automatically took on the role of the caretaker, and nurturer, and so it was naturally up to me to guard her every step as we began to navigate the woods. At this point, we had no belongings, no sense of direction and no voice. Now, my partner had no sight. It was us versus the woods. We stepped carefully, meticulously and slowly but with Dina walking at such a brisk pace, after a few moments we softened, picked up our speed, and felt our fears, concerns and obligations begin to melt away. Our adventure was awaiting step by unknown step. Suddenly, Dina stopped, so I squeezed my partner’s hand clasped in my own to let her know we were coming to a standstill. Dina looked at me and pointed to a tree, so I squeezed my partner’s hand again, this time to let her know we were starting and gently walked her toward the tree.

Dina then made a hugging motion with her arms and moved her arms up and down along the trunk, indicating to hug the tree and really feel the entire trunk, from our tipping toes to kneeling down. Then tugging of the ears to hear it. Then she even pulled tiny pieces of leaves and asked us to offer it to our partners to taste.

And for the last part, we were told to ask our partners to lick the tree. I stared at this tree with its thick blistering bark and fuzzy moss and felt horrible for having to make the request. I tapped her lips and then the tree but she refused. I didn’t push further as I wouldn’t have liked to lick this tree either. We stifled our laughter and smiled widely.

At the very end, we tilted our partners’ heads up, facing toward the crown of the trees and told them to open their eyes. When they did, the majestic height of the trees and leaves came into view like magic flooding the senses even more. We took our first deep breath.

Dina named the tree for us. It was a hemlock.

Then we switched and I was now the one who was to be led blindly through the woods and I met my tree. It was surprisingly cool and smooth to the touch and I did not mind giving it a try – licking this tree. It was sweet birch. We did this a few times meeting beech and oak and white pine as well. With each tree we greeted and with each deep breath we took, our grasp of each other’s hands felt looser. Each step became more casual and we intuitively stepped over decaying trunks, and ducked under low hanging branches. We walked calmly. We walked knowingly.

It was no longer us versus the woods. It was us in the woods. It was us with the woods.

For the last round, I was the follower and some time had passed walking with closed eyes. The terrain under our feet was changing from dry leaves and twigs to rocky soil and tall plants. Still, we had not ensued our usual routine of meeting a tree. The sun was now shining on my face and there was a strong sense of silence. Not a distant car and not the chirp of birds. Not even a crack of a branch underneath boots or the thud of a dropping pinecone.

I felt a light push on the top of my shoulders, tug on my arms, and gentle tap on the back of my knees. I was gestured to crouch down closer to the ground, and as I did, my palms were guided to brush along the leaves of plants all around me. Dina finally spoke and told us to keep our eyes closed and for the leaders to also close their eyes. She asked, “Can you feel what gifts these plants have to offer?” I breathed in the calm and sense of security. “I am here,” I thought. “Just here.”

We were then invited to open our eyes. I was sitting in the midst of a green meadow showered by warm rays of sunlight. We were no longer in the woods. There were no trails and no trees. All around my shoulders were these stemmed plants with small scalloped leaves. A few blue and lavender flowers managed to cling on past their moment of bloom. We were sitting in the midst of a healing patch of scullcap, a nervine, in its natural environment. This plant sooths both spirit and nerves. Scullcap has an affinity for moist soil and naturally grows in partially shaded, quiet spots, away from chaos and noise. This is where its gifts would be best received.

Walking back to Dina’s Garden, we were all deep in thought. Our eyes had been opened along with our hearts. What a journey. Our senses were heightened and minds expanded while each step increased our appreciation for the wild beauty and rhythm of the forest, and of course the full abundance of plants, trees, and life. With each step, they each seemed to greet us, “Nice to finally meet you,” and we would reply “Thank you for your gifts” with each step back to Dina’s Garden, leaving the serenity of the forest behind.

Standing, fully nourished, in the flower garden, we chose to remain humbly silent. Dina invited us to look around and to choose a flower which personally resonated with us so she could teach us how to make a flower essence. Surprisingly, we each named a different flower and yet had to select one flower as a group. We chose black-eyed Susan and sat in front of this flower to meditate and to write down our initial thoughts in one stream of consciousness.

We then sat in a circle and shared. My words came as a shock to me especially after people shared phrases such as “bright, sunny, yellow flower”, “golden florets” and “gumdrops of happiness.” Mine was quite the opposite and was much darker.

I read aloud, “Never has the shadow of life been so beautiful. Every little flower screaming, ‘Look at me.’ Narscissm. Don’t let the dark be a hinder. Allow my light to help you enter the space covered by shadows. As shadow is just a part of life.”

I immediately sensed that these words which poured from my core were actually not my words but the words from the flower. I felt excitement yet also humiliation sharing these somewhat unsettling words with the group after we connected over such a beautiful, light-hearted experience.

Later that day, I learned that the revelation I shared is the actual gift and healing power of the black-eyed Susan when it comes to its expression as a flower essence. It is indeed to transform through recognizing the darkness and repressed emotions. It is a safe invitation to journey to the darker aspects of our personality or perhaps recognize those darker aspects hidden within our culture and community and to shift through these patterns.

Carl Jung has said “One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light but by making… [the unconscious] conscious.”

It was at this point that I believed in the power and energies of flower essences. Too much had pulsed through for me to resist or ignore. I needed to develop a relationship with flower essences.

The land was calling.  

FLOWER ESSENCE NOTES: The essence of Black Eyed Susan is evident in the way the flower physically appears. Bright and yellow petals support the dark protruding center. It allows us to comfortably, through a space of light and joy, and with courage, enter into the space of darkness to acknowledge our shadows. It is only when there is light that the shadows are visible. In this story, the walk through the woods is, in itself, a meditation. Letting go of the attachment to belongings, and removing the sense of sight and the need to speak, one moves away from the head brain and allows the gut brain and the heart brain to expand. We trust our other sensory receptors and use other tools of our body to “know.” A dancer once told me that the only reason he dances is to dispel the fear of darkness. He always dances with his shadow. 

MEDITATION: Black Eyed Susan flower essence pairs well with Kirya for Elevation as facing the shadow aspect of self brings about elevation of the mind, body and spirit, and helps us to burst through unconscious patterns. Energy is physically channeled upwards through the spine and balances all chakras.